The Emma Chamber

[Resolve]

As the mohawked man clashed with the pukey elf behind her, Resolve nearly advanced on her victim only to find her protected by an all too sickeningly familiar barrier: the mystic glass. Immediately, the girl doubled over, minimizing her exposed surface area as she conjured a shield of swirling energy. It sizzled as the shards burst in fireworks against its surface, but even in her haste, such a tactic couldn't fully defend her against the sudden onslaught. One dagger of searing glass embedded itself like a bullet in her left shoulder, inciting a cry of pain and disappointment.

"Shit!" she hissed, shield fluctuating, then dropping as she yanked the thin shard from its new home in her muscle. Resolve burnt her fingers on it, dropping it to the grass at her knees where her blood mingled with dew. With some residual cursing, she lifted her gaze to the other young woman and she knew. This person was somehow relevant to Sei, and as such, inherited the massive grudge she bore against him from the last tournament. She glared through her hair, eyes so crystalline blue that they almost seemed to glow in contrast with her dark complexion. "Let's do this," she muttered in self motivation, and she bounced to her feet directly into a sprint.

Resolve drew her sword singlehandedly as she ran, lifting it menacingly as she made to hack little Kyla Orlouge to bits.

[Mage Hunter]

If her Kyorl drill sergeant could see her now, he’d be kicking her ass for failing to see the kick coming. The blow deflecting her sword was a new trick, and one she was loathe to repeat even as a finger gently brushed against the rough stone set it not he hilt of the blade. Reassured the Null Stone was in fact still present and not shattered by the offsetting blow she had been victim to., she watched the area around her more than aware he wasn’t her only threat and widened her eyes as she saw the glass shield about one of the combatants shatter into flaming shards, and spreading out like shrapnel.

Her first instinct was to activate the null stone, but with no other recourse she would be a dead fish as soon as a solid spell landed on her. There would be no Godhand Striker to pull her ass from the fire if she failed this time. She had become a grown woman rather than the petulant child she had begun as and to fail so resolutely, so early in this endeavor would be humiliating. This wasn’t the Kyrol Trained mage Hunter that Alerar had exiled in fear, this would be the death of a semi-known person who was so incompetent she couldn’t even beat a normal street thug with a flashy fireball.

That would have been the height of embarrassment.

Instead she decided to use the arena to her advantage. That was to say, her opponent more specifically. Seeing the flying glass shards she moved to try and put as many of them firmly into Aur’s body even as she used her blade to try and bat away others. Muttering under her breath, “Stupid Mystics, why c an’t they control their magic like most mages I meet?”

[Cicilix]

As they stood there and watched each other Cicilix became a little bit nervous again. She couldn't read her opponent's intentions at all and that made it very hard, if not down right impossible, to predict his next move. She knew that this fact forced her to be much more careful than usually. If she was going to survive this battle she would have to keep her guard up at all times. For the moment that was going rather well. The girl had even started to ignore the wound in her side, which was still dripping blood slowly.

“He is trying to distract me”, she thought with a slight smug smile visible on her lips as she watched him get closer to her. “He won't get away with that.”

The girl didn't let her gaze avert from his face at all, looking for any little sign that would give away when he was going to attack.

A sudden revelation hit her. Since she couldn't read her opponent she really only had one option. She would have to be the first to attack at all times, trying to get an advantage when he wasn't suspecting it. This would be very hard for her, it was the complete opposite of what she was used to but it just might work.

However she didn't have time to do anything before something hit her back. Hard. She could feel the burning glass shards bury themselves into her vest but it was nowhere close to be thick enough to protect her from them and the glass cut into her back, drawing a pained shriek from her lips. She stumbled forward towards her opponent.

His attack came soon after that and she just barely managed to get her free arm up to protect her chest. This wound was much deeper than the wound in her side but by now she was too tired to scream. All the energy she could muster went to keep her on her feet now.

At this point Cicilix completely shut off her thoughts and feelings. Her instincts kicked in and she went into her fighting mode. With a swift movement she got her dagger free from him and quickly struck out towards his throat with an incredible precise aim.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Aurelianus was watching his opponent intently, waiting for any tell-tale sign of the knife-ear's next move. He circled the blades in his hands slowly, easing out his wrists, loosening up for the bout. If he hadn't been focusing on the girl so much, he might never had had any sort of warning. But, as the chit's eyes widened a little, the tiefling, peery he was about to fall for the oldest trick in the book, risked a glance over his shoulder...

And swore.

He just had time to see the magic bubble around one of the other bastards in the arena explode outward with the musical tinkling of glass against glass. His expression darkened a fraction more when they burst into flames in the air.

Aurelius was already moving; Crouching low, the tiefling turned his will inwards, feeling out the invocation that was by now as natural to him as breathing. In a heartbeat Freki's Shield burst into existence, distorting the air in all its flaming splendour. The magical bubble shield swirled into form around the warlock, just in time to deflect a few of the shards heading his way. But not all of them. Two managed to clear the area before the Shield covered it, one shattering against the bladed-straps and plates of his leather armour. The second whistled past the half-demon's face, making him wince slightly as it slashed along his right ear, pinging off the myriad rings and charms piercing the tapered flesh.

A warm drop of blood splashed onto the side of his neck, stark black against his alabaster flesh, already congealing in the heat surrounding him in its protective cocoon. A grim chuckle slid thickly from his throat when he heard the elf behind him cursing. With the merest fraction of his will the spellslinger dropped Freki's Shield, confident in his abilities to survive without the arcane flames swathing him.

"Aye, I'm with you there, luv," he smirked, turning back to the girl and ignoring the minor flesh-wound. Still, you want to see magicks under control, I'm 'appy to oblige, he thought with a sharp-edged grin.

Steeling himself for what he knew was going to be unpleasant, the plane-touched warlock felt his throat start to expand unnaturally inside, his mouth straining wider than any human mouth had any right to... and before the eyes of the competitors and spectators alike, vomited a thrashing swarm of angry insects at the sword-wielding dark-elf. Centipedes, cockroaches, beetles, sting-flies, wasps; all emerged in a cloud instantly attacking the nearest living thing besides himself, biting, burrowing, stinging.

Grimacing at the taste in his mouth, and spitting out a stray maggot, he watched to see how the newest spell in his repertoire would do. "Ugh! That taste always reminds me of the sewers in Ettermire," he spat, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "Bloody 'orrible."

[Gold]

Timothy saw the glass fly towards him at speeds that seemed impossible. With one quick motion, Timothy pulled his shield in front of him and ducked behind it, as the glass shattered on his shield. I'm glad I brought this thing with me, but I think it's about time that we join in on this party. But who to pick?

[Amber Eyes]

Kyla watched as the combatants ran, dodged, and hid behind each other. A hint of a smile played on the edge of her lips as the scent of burning flesh reached her nostrils. She quickly surveyed the damage, attempting to choose her target when footsteps reached her ears. Kyla turned, sword ready, to see the caramel skinned girl bringing her sword down. She pulled her blade to her chest a fast as she could, but not quite fast enough. Her opponent’s blade just grazed the skin near her shoulder. It was nothing more than a scrape, but that this girl had managed to get the jump on her at all sent raging fury through the mystic’s veins.

When Kyla joined the cell she expected the legend of Godhand Striker, the cunning of Max Dirks, the pure strength of Joshua Cronen, the magical talents of Lillian Sessthal, a fight to the death against Draug, the killer of the Ixians. Instead, here she was locking swords with someone who had never even registered on her radar. Kyla pushed hard against her sword, hoping to push the young girl off her feet. “I’ve fought Gods, do you really think you have a chance here?”

She whispered something under her breath, listening for the crackle of thunder as a bolt of lightning made its way to the earth, directed at the young blonde she had noticed blocking her glass with his shield. Might as well start taking the weaker ones out while I’m dealing with this one.

[Herald of the Tempest]

Vyrabond had received a lucky chance to strike when the Mystic's protective barrier broke and the firey remains were abosrbed by his foe. He would have called it careful planning, but as the construct learned the Cell was more about chaos and less about skill. This suited him just fine, for the Kron'tyr relished in the swirling melee in his days when flesh was his own.

The attack he planned was thwarted again, but his wounds were getting deeper and causing more damage. A few more well placed strikes and he would have her dead before him. He shoved one foot back to brace himself, preparing a secondary attack, but had to use both hands to claw the incoming dagger away. What would have been death was avoided, but her aim was still true enough. He felt the right side of his cheek light up, pain receptors overloading his senses blurring his vision. His mouth hung, ghastly open like a zombie, his green eyes sparking like a fading star. He twirled with the attack, confused at her sudden change and struck violently outwards to keep her away as he assessed the situation.

Yet he couldn't. He couldn't focus pass the pain. His jaw was litteraly hanging on the other side of his face and though it was nothing he had to actually fear, the insistance for Vyrabond's infiltration to mimic human reactions had become his own. Their weaknesses were now his, and concern was imprinted into his mind. What was he to do? How in the Storm Herald's name did a human deal with such agony?

For the first time in a long time, Vyrabond felt helpless, and like a cornered rat he began to swipe furiously to keep his aggressor away while he tried to reboot himself. He was not done yet, but perhaps the death knell wasn't playing for his foe after all.

((Ciclix, you gave me a post to attack you, so this is your return post. Enjoy ))

[Resolve]

The sword nicked her opponent's shoulder, blood for blood, and they each glistened crimson and blue as they stared each other down. Somewhere behind her, Resolve heard her bug-belching comrade mention Ettermire's sewers. This interrupted her concentration, grasping for her attention –– why would he make that kind of reference, of all things? It triggered hazy recognition in the back of her mind, like seeing someone's face in a crowd but being unable to place it. She didn't like it one bit.

As the exorcist's gut sank, Kyla's parry cleared away the ominous clouds of doubt for a minuscule moment. The mystic attempted to shove Resolve away, the girl finding herself matched in brute strength; she allowed herself to be pushed back, staggering slightly if only to gain another split second to think. The woman said something to her, but she barely registered her words under the growing noise of her own thoughts.

Nausea blossomed in her stomach, sharp pangs of panic in her chest. Why would he say that?

But she couldn't allow herself to be too distracted –– she had a mystic to slaughter.

The girl lifted her left arm, too damaged from the glass to handle a heavy sword, and wielded another crackling ball of energy instead. In close range, she swept it right up into the mystic's abdomen and unleashed its power at point blank range. If it struck true, it could crush ribs, depending on what protection she had; even at a distance, a glance could be enough to knock the wind out of someone.

[Amber Eyes]

Something was very wrong. Kyla had no thought other than pain. She flew back, her arms failing to make the journey towards her unbearable midsection. She landed hard and the pain intensified, her back and head joining in on the torture. In the moments before the adrenaline rush Kyla thought she was dying.

The explosion hit her just below her ribcage, tearing into her flesh and crushing at least one rib. Her head throbbed, and her vision took a moment to come back from the bright light she saw upon impact. “Who the hell are you?” The mystic mumbled the question mostly to herself, finally remembering which muscles she needed to move to rub the back of her head. The blood on her shirt told her what lay beneath was far from fatal, but that did little to subdue the pain. The ribs would at least slow her down and this fight had only just begun. “Let’s see who’s bombs are bigger, shall we?”

The words came out less threatening than she intended, but the impact wasn’t meant to be on the girl’s ears. A ball of light began to grow just behind her opponent’s head and soon swirling black fog began to surround the orb. The shadows grew stronger, squeezing the light until it was almost invisible. Kyla rolled to her stomach, tucking her head under her arms and waited for the explosion.

[Gold]

Timothy saw the lightning head his way. Guess that answers that question, he thought as he pulled out his rapier, put it into the ground and jumped back just as the lightning hit his makeshift lightning rod. After all the lightning had entered the earth, Timothy walked forward and pulled the rapier out of the ground and sheathed it.

He also sheathed his short sword then saw the one who attacked him duck. He saw a strange orb form behind the other girl and knew this was bad he opened a portal in between the girl and the explosive as the exit portal appeared right behind the mystic that attacked him. The explosion traveled through the portal, right at the mystic. After the the explosion went through, the portal closed and Timothy was exhausted, he knew he wouldn't be able to make another one for about two hours, but it was worth it to gain an ally in this cell.